


Words Written, Music Played

by Crutchie_By_The_Way



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Sam, Dean Plays The Piano, Fear, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Sam, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Student Sam, Teacher Dean, Teacher-Student Relationship, Thunderstorms, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crutchie_By_The_Way/pseuds/Crutchie_By_The_Way
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is passion, deep and yearning. Yet Sam Wesson never thought he would find love...That is, until he met Dean Winchester. This is the story of finding a voice when it seems you have none. How goodbyes can always be taken back, how you mustn't be afraid of thunder when the sun is only so many worlds away, and love, though hard to catch, can be given and found in the most vulnerable of people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Doesn't Have to be at First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello, I've decided to restart my account, hoping I can make my writing better. I hope you truly enjoy. If you have any comments, questions, or concerns about what I've written, feel more than free to speak.

  


Words are Flowing Out

Like an Endless Rain into a Paper Cup

They Slither While They Pass

They Slip Away Across the Universe

 

January

Sam was sure the whole mess started when he walked into class that sunny day in Lawrence, Kansas. It was the start of the New Year, 1969. His second semester of Senior year.

Of course it started there. Where else would it start besides the moment his saw his History teacher, Dean Winchester? He was the first thing Sam laid eyes on. Not the peeling ugly white (More like yellow now) paint on the wall. Not the school beauty, Jo Harevelle. And he most definitely didn’t notice how the students stared at him, the new student. No. It was Dean Winchester.

**  
**

To Sam, he was the most gorgeous person he had ever seen. All bright green eyes, an almost impossibly brighter smile, dark hair slicked back, and Sam nearly drooled at the sight of how Dean’s shoulders and biceps fit into his suit.

**  
**

Yeah, it was so very wrong. But what seemed to be right after Hitler tried to annihilate an entire Religion, Gypsies, children and adults with mental disabilities, and people like Sam. Homosexuals.

**  
**

It was unknown to most that that was what he was. Sam didn’t think it a big deal at all. Just him liking the same sex. But to others that wasn’t exactly the case. It wasn’t right, it was a sin. But what is the bigger sin? Homosexuality or pure hatred of someone else and their right to freedom of speech and opinion?

**  
**

People never had truly moved on from the war like the television seemed to make it. How could one move on after only twenty-four years since the end? After all, do people’s minds ever seem to really forget?

**  
**

And no one could move on for one thing, students were taught all about it in World History. And everyone in Sam’s class always wanted to speak in class, always wanted to look Mr. Winchester in the eyes as they spoke. Who wouldn’t? With a face like Deans, everyone wanted to be the teacher’s pet.

**  
**

Well except for the fact that Sam didn’t.

**  
**

He hated History. Even if he did think Mr. Winchester was absolutely gorgeous, it meant nothing. Dean was probably straight anyways, probably thought people like him were disgusting.

**  
**

“Sam Wesson right? Care to take a seat or are you going to stand there and daydream all class?” Sam heard a deep voice break through his thoughts like they were glass. He heard laughter, most of it annoyingly fake, erupt around him and he looked up quickly. The chorus of laughter faded away as Sam found his eyes locked with him. Dean Winchester. 

“Oh…Um…” Sam cleared his throat as his voice cracked, only resulting in more laughter. Dean sighed and quieted his class quickly by raising up his hand. 

“Okay, Mr. Wesson, just sit down please.” Dean said in a directing tone, pointing to an empty seat. Oh good, just what Sam wanted. The last seat in the front row.

**  
**

Sam sighed, nearly rolling his eyes and said nothing as he plopped down into the seat.

“Class.” Dean started to speak again. “As you all know, we have a new student. Mr. Sam Wesson, anything you’d like to say?”

**  
**

Dean crossed his arms and Sam scowled. This was a test and Sam knew it. Some test to see if Sam was an idiot. He wouldn’t have it. 

**  
**

The boy next to Sam, Gabriel Novak, leaned over. He had golden colored hair and dark eyes, a smirk seeming permanently etched onto his lips. 

“Don’t worry Sammy, Winchester’s only twenty percent bad!”

**  
**

With those words, girls giggled at Gabriel’s comment, one of his dark eyes giving them a wink.

Sam rolled his eyes, looking up at Dean with a smirk similar to the one the boy next to him had had.

**  
**

“Nothing I’d like to say, Mr. Winchester.” Sam said in a mocking tone, yet his lips were more than dry. Dean rose an eyebrow almost shocked at the way Sam spoke to him.

**  
**

“Really? Mind if I test you? See what you know in history?” Dean smirked, question after question going through his mind as he saw Sam shrug.

**  
**

“Would you like me to stand,  sir? ” Sam wasn’t sure what was going through him. Maybe it was how he knew he could one up Dean, show him what he was made of. Maybe it was how the class stared in anticipations, making the adrenaline pump through his veins. It was most definitely Dean.

**  
**

“Go ahead. I’m warning you though. My class is tough to pass. If you don’t know the information now well…I don’t know if I can teach it to you in time for finals along with this semester’s work.” Dean spoke, arms still crossed.

**  
**

Sam rolled his eyes (He found he was doing that an awful lot lately) and walked to the front of the class. “You won’t have too.” He said, a wide smirk on his lips.

**  
**

“Fine. Whatever you say. Declaration of Independence was signed by who?” The first question went past Dean’s lips quickly.

**  
**

“Thomas Jefferson. Hard class? I don’t know. That’s a first grade question Mr. Winchester.” Sam’s arms were crossed now. The tension was strong, felt through everyone in the class, some were even sure it was a sexual tension.

**  
**

Dean took a deep breath. “Oh, I’m just getting started Mr. Wesson. What country lost 17.2 percent of its population during World War Two?”

**  
**

“Poland.” Sam answered quickly. Dean was starting to become amused with this student. Only two questions had been asked. Yet, so far Sam seemed to be smarter than Dean had thought. Sam answered with such ease, Dean wanted to see exactly how far it could go.

“Okay. Maybe those were easy questions. I think I’ll start with something with a bit more of a higher level of intellect, what do you think?” Dean was prepared to challenge this student now.

“Bring. It.” Sam spoke through gritted teeth. He swore he heard several students gasp, the sound of the scratching of old desk on the tile floor as students even tried to move their desk a bit closer to the action.

**  
**

“In the Crusades, who fought to capture what?” Dean scowled as he spoke.

“Muslims and Christians to capture Jerusalem. Christians won.”

**  
**

“Name the first ship to travel through the Panama Canal.”

**  
**

Sam thought hard for a moment. “I believe it’s the Ancon, Sir.”

**  
**

“Correct. In World War Two, what was the estimated number of Jews killed?”

Sam scoffed. God, he hated learning about World War Two, but that didn’t stop him from not knowing the answer. “Six million. Also counting Gypsies, Homosexuals, and mentally challenged people.” Sam tried to one up Dean on his own question. It went on for several minutes, Dean nearly shouting question after question and Sam answering better than he expected.

**  
**

“Good. Name the five Pillars of Islam.” Dean said and Sam stopped for a moment, trying his best to remember.

**  
**

“Establishment of daily prayers, concern for the needy, self-purification….” Sam stopped, the room dead silent.

**  
**

“Hm? Sorry, didn’t quite catch the rest Sam.” Dean smirked, knowing this kid didn’t know everything gave him a pleasant feeling, no matter how awful it sounded.

**  
**

“I don’t know. I don’t know the rest of the damn answer got it?” Sam growled, glaring at Dean. If a glare could kill, Dean would’ve been tortured slowly and bled out in Sam’s mind. Dean wasn’t taken slightly aback, uncrossing his arms.

**  
**

“Seems you don’t know everything. Sit down now Wesson. Language.” Dean glared right back, the look following Sam right back to his seat, along with another thirty pairs of eyes from the students. “Now that we’re done with Mr. Wesson ‘introducing’ himself…we can actually learn something.” Sam looked around and saw students smiling at Dean, as if everything that had just happened was a dream.

**  
**

A dream? God, Sam could only wish it was just a dream. He moved his dark brown hair out of his hazel eyes, not really sure what Dean was saying. He heard bits and pieces, thinking they were learning about the French Revolution. Yawn.

**  
**

Sam stared at the peeling paint on the wall, scoffing when he saw it was just painted in certain areas the day before. Shows how much the school cares about how the wall looks.

‘Congrats Mr. Winchester.’  He thought. ‘ You’re less interesting than watching paint dry.’  Sam took a deep breath and didn’t bother to pay attention. What was the point? He already knew he wasn’t liked by Dean. Even though he couldn’t deny that his teacher was so handsome….What was this, second grade? Sam was being rude to show Mr. Winchester he fancied him? Like when you’re told ‘ He’s mean because he likes you’  Yep. Definitely second grade again.

**  
**

The bell soon rang and Sam was relieved to just get out of that damn classroom for the rest of the day. At the end of the year he would pass his class and never have to see Mr. Winchester ever again! It was a very joyful things for him to think about. But it really wasn’t at the same time. On one hand he could never see his teacher again, never have a chance with him. On the other hand he could stop seeing his teacher and that would mean never having to even try and have a chance with him. It would end bad anyways. Dean was his  teacher.

Sam nearly ran out of the classroom, not bothering to be annoyed with the stares and whispers that were towards him. He walked to the front of the high school, the walls of the buildings only a slightly darker than the ugly yellow of the classrooms, with spots of maroon in stripes nearly random on the walls.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply. One day down. Okay. Now he just had to get through what he was sure a million more. Or would at least feel like that.

* * *

 

 

 

Dean sighed, trying to calm his heart rate down as the blood raced through his body at the thought of his new student. The kid was such an asshole! He didn’t know what to do with him and it was only his first day in his class! Sure, the kid was a complete genius besides not knowing one question. And even then if Dean had gave him a small hint as to what the rest of the answer was, he probably would’ve gotten it. But Dean couldn’t help it. He found himself hating and loving Sam Wesson all at the same time.

  


He’d pass his class, maybe even get the top grade. Dean was completely sure of that. What he wasn’t sure of was how he would actually get through the semester.

  


It sounded so sinful, so utterly sinful. But the teacher found himself fancying his student. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t even close to right at all. That was another thing Dean couldn’t help. How he felt when he saw Sam smirk every time he knew the stupid answer to his damn questions. How his eyes were filled with determination to defeat his teacher in his little game. How the kid was taller than he was, might be even taller by the end of the year if he hit another growth spurt. Everything about Sam Wesson turned him on.

  


A teacher head over heels for a student! It wasn’t that much an age difference, it was only Dean’s first year teaching. He was twenty-three and Sam would be eighteen by the end of the year. Only then would it be technically legal. What the hell was he thinking! It had only been one day and Sam was straight! Not that Dean knew that, but Dean was sure of it considering society believing anyone gay had to be worshipping the Devil.

  


Dean just tried his best to let the thought go, straightened his tie and walked out of the classroom.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam didn’t even make it out of the school parking lot before he was confronted by a girl from his History class. He rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. “What do you want?” He scowled.

“Aw, teacher’s pet getting upset?” The girl Sam recognized as Meg Masters, a girl with dark chocolate colored hair and dark eyes, her thin lips always in a smirk, spoke in a gleeful tone.

Sam scoffed. “Teacher’s pet? Right. I hate that class!” He defended himself. Yet Meg wouldn’t have it.

  


“Anyone who is that smart and knows all the answers…well nearly all the answers…” She chuckled before continuing. “Is automatically considered the teacher’s pet. And don’t lie to me. Everyone saw the sexual tension between you too. You know Sammy, it’s very illegal for teachers and students and be together. Even worse, people to be...homosexual.”

Sam scowled. “I am not gay, alright? Don’t call me Sammy! You don’t know anything.” His voice held power.. It may have been a lie but he wouldn’t admit that to Meg.

“Yep. I’m sure you aren’t. Keep telling yourself that, make your mother proud.” Meg smirked, rolling her eyes. Who was she to say this to Sam like that? She knew nothing! Meg may have been right about it all but….she was still wrong about  him.

  


“Hey!” Sam’s eyes went wide and his head turned towards the voice he heard. Oh, lucky day. Mr. Winchester here to save the day. Sam’s day really was going well now wasn’t it?

Meg bit her lip hard, her eyes wider than Sam’s. “Mr. Winchester!” Her cheeks went dark with embarrassment. “Oh, I was just helping Sam with this question he had about class!” It wasn’t believable and Dean knew pretty damn well that was not what was going on.

  


“Miss Masters, I suggest you leave now before there is more trouble.” Dean gave a small smile and a wink that would get the any girl (or Sam) to do whatever he wanted him too.

“Yes sir…” She said quietly and walked away, not leaving without giving a glare to Sam.

Sam closed his eyes for a moment and turned to Dean. “Thanks Mr. Winchester, but I didn’t need your help…” He said quietly.

  


Dean shook his head. “Its fine, Miss Masters causes more trouble than she’s worth.” He bit his lip and there was a short awkward silence between the two before they waved good bye and went their separate ways. Sam was completely certain his cheeks were redder than Megs were. Even more sure that Mr. Winchester had noticed.

  


Sam sighed and went to his car. It was an older car, a 1954 Chevy Truck a light blue color.. Nothing too special, didn’t even run well anymore nor was it easy on the eyes. A thin layer of dirt was permanent on the surface. He reached into his pocket to pull out his keys.

The world sure did love him today.

  


His keys weren’t there. Instead Sam found a hole in his pocket, more than big enough for his car keys to fall through.

  


Sam clenched his fist, trying to stay calm. “Fuck!” He shouted out and kicked the cars wheel.

Dean watched the whole scene from his car, a midnight black ’67 Chevy Impala. His father had given it to him after his graduated, thinking it was an appropriate gift. Dean gladly took the gift. Now it was his baby. The thing he could take care of. Dean lived alone in a small apartment and had nothing since he had started college. That car was his favorite thing now.

He drove up towards Sam, not sure if he should regret this decision or not. “Mr. Wesson, you have a problem?”

  


“Its not a big deal, I lost my car keys. I’ll just walk home.” He shrugged it off, eager to get away from the school.

  


“And where do you live?” Dean always felt amused with this student. He crossed his arms, awaiting an answer.

  


“Just a few streets away, I can be home in like half an hour.” He didn’t make eye contact.

Dean took a deep breath, not sure if he would regret this or not. But there was no way he could just let the kid walk. “But if I….drive you, you can be there in five minutes.” Dean offered quietly.

  


Sam rose an eyebrow. “You want to drive me home? No thanks. Much rather walk.” He scoffed.

  


Dean sighed. “Really?” He looked up at the sky, the grey clouds forming in swirls across the sky, highlighted in blacks and other forms of grey. “Because by the looks of it, it’ll rain soon. Sure you want to walk in that?”

Sam sucked in a breath and nodded, too stubborn for Dean’s liking. “Yes. I would. I like rain.” Sure, Sam liked rain. When there was no thunder. (But that’s a story down the road)

  


Dean scoffed. “And I like music from the twenties. Get in please?”

  


“I’d much rather walk, thanks.”

  


Dean shook his head. “That can’t be true. You know what happens to people like you out here?”

  


He crossed his arms, a look of confusion burned into his eyes now. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  


Dean found himself going completely red, hiding his face for a moment as he cleared his throat. “I um...Sorry, didn’t mean anything by that…”

  


Sam couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the awkwardness Dean had all the sudden. “Its fine, Mr. Winchester. But really, I am able to walk just fine.”

  


Dean didn’t understand Sam Wesson in the slightest. First he walks into his classroom, acting up. Then, he won’t take up his utterly nice offer to drive the damn sasquatch of a man home. (The kid stood at least three inches taller than himself.)

  


“Okay.” Dean said in a sing-song tone, crossing his arms. He stared at Sam for a moment, as if he was a book demanding to be read. “Just know-” As if on cue, thunder erupted through the sky, causing a less than subtle jump from Sam. (Dean had to admit, Sam looked pretty good with his hair wet and down in this situation.) “Thunders here. And lightning shall most likely follow.”

  
  


Sam sighed deeply, shaking his head as he tried to regain whatever ounce of dignity he had at that point.. “If I take up your offer will you stop bothering me?”

Dean shrugged, “Considering you’ll be doing what I asked I won’t have to bother you about it. Deal.” Dean smirked. Sam rolled his eyes and got into the passenger seat.

  


As Dean started to pull out of the school parking lot, Sam pointed about a quarter mile up the road. “Just make a right here and go straight. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  


Dean nodded. “You got it Sam.” Dean smiled slightly and looked over at Sam for a moment but quickly turned his head away. He drove up the road and made a right where Sam had told him too.

  


“You know, you’re a smart kid…In class you knew just about all the answers.” Dean broke the silence. Honestly, Dean felt kind of guilty treating Sam the way he had on his first day. He hadn’t exactly done anything awful yet he had. Sam looked up at Dean, his cheeks slightly pink now.

  


“I um…I guess so. It’s just studying…I was alone a lot as a kid so I learned a lot of things by myself…” Sam said quietly.

  


Dean nodded. “Oh…That’s great, you’ll do fantastic in college.” Dean sighed. There was silence again as Sam just shrugged. After a few moments and Sam silently pointing at where Dean needed to go, they pulled up to an old apartment building downtown. The rain was pouring down like tears down cheeks when one sobs. Not too hard, but most definitely not quiet. It roared and thundered and somehow the raindrops each showed emotion as they hit the ground.

  


“Thanks…” Sam said awkwardly and got out of the car. He didn’t wait for an answer from Dean, just quickly ran into the building to avoid getting too wet from the tears of whoever cried in the sky that afternoon.

  


Sam was happy to get away from Dean. First off, he liked his privacy. And he swore if he was with Dean with only a few more moments, his head would explode from the pressure. 

  
Dean stayed there for a few moments, not speaking, not even thinking a single word before driving off to his own apartment. In his mind Dean wasn’t sure what to make of falling for a student in a matter of seconds. Yet, he knew deep down his feelings for Sam were far from what was right. And Sam knew it too.  


****


	2. Why Can't Life Be Easier?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh my, sorry for taking more than a week to update, and with such a short chapter too, I may rewrite it! Please comment, kudos, anything makes me happy! Oh, and sorry for my somewhat 'sexual' beginning. I haven't the slightest clue how to describe two seconds of sex due to the fact that I am a virgin fifteen year old.

_"Sammy..." Sam heard his name uttered in a deep, seductive tone and felt strong hands against his skin. He moaned lightly at the tone, trying to get more friction with the man whispering his name._

_"Please...." Sam let the begging start to go past his lips, sweat rolling down as pleasure went through his body. "Oh God, please..."_

_He looked up, trying to figure out who the man against him was._

_That was when he saw piercing green eyes, eyes he wouldn't mistake throughout his lifetime. The full pink lips came into view now, making Sam's cheeks flush a deep crimson red. The lips he saw went into a smirk, only making the blush darker._

_"Like hearing you beg, Sammy, drives me crazy...But I like taking my time." Dean Winchester whispered to him. The his lips were against Sam's neck, sucking and biting at the skin. Sam whimpered slightly at a particularly more painful bite, only to be diminished by small kisses. He gripped tight onto Dean, his actions asking for more friction, more pleasure, more pain, more anything._

_"Damn, someone's eager." He heard Dean chuckle and then all the sudden he pressed his lips to Sam's. Sam eagerly kissed him back as if it was all he had left, Dean's lips, and they would keep him alive._

_His lips were definitely full, definitely perfect. Sam swore they were the softest lips he ever felt and he wished he could always feel them. Dean deepened the kiss, snaking his tongue past Sam's teeth before he could stop him. As if Sam would._

_"I'm going to be so good to you Sammy. So damn good. Make you see fireworks..." He growled in between deep breaths._

_If Sam wasn't eager before, he was exactly that now, wanting Dean's hands on him, his tongue, wanted Dean inside him. He wanted it all so quickly and Dean wouldn't give it to him._

_Dean kissed a trail down Sam's jaw, down to his chest, sucking marks wherever he could. "People will know Sammy." He spoke. "Anybody ever tries to take you? Strip you down the way I have? They'll know."_

_"Only yours." Sam found himself whispering. "Yours."_ _Dean nodded, unzipping Sam's jeans. "Mine."_

_Then a telephone rang._

* * *

 

Sam shot up in his bed, sweaty and panting from...a dream. It was all a dream.

And Sam couldn't figure out if he was glad it was all in his mind or if he was disappointed.

But it _was_ his teacher. His teacher! (A male teacher too!) And Sam would see him in sixth period, only so many hours away.

He didn't know what to make of it all, didn't understand...And where the _hell_ did the name 'Sammy' come from?

He came out of his thoughts when he remembered his telephone ringing, sighing and nearly dragging his body from his bed. Sam hesitantly picked up the old, tree-bark colored phone and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Sam! Recognize my voice?"

Sam rolled his eyes, sighing more as he nodded. "Yes, Garth. I recognize your voice. Is there anything specific you need right now? I have to get ready for school, you know."

He heard Garth scoff. "Yes, I know! But..." His voice suddenly became easy and slow, as if he would regret the next few syllables. "I can't help pay for your apartment anymore. I'm moving to New York! Try to make a top-notch living. You understand right?"

Sam didn't understand it in the slightest. Garth's family had been helping Sam live in the small apartment for the first few months due to not yet having a job in the town. "Garth! Dammit, you have to be joking. _Please_ tell me you are joking. I can't pay for this just yet, I can't."

There was a nearly inaudible sigh from the other end of the line. "You still have until the end of the moth. A few more weeks. I'd start looking for other places, with a roommate!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, exactly what I want. To live with a complete stranger while I can't even help pay. Great idea!" The sarcasm was evident in his voice.

"See!" Garth was clearing unable to identify the obvious sarcasm. "It won't be so bad. Look in the papers, someone ought to be looking for a roommate. "

With a sound that seemed to be a low growl, Sam slammed the phone down, knowing he shouldn't be so pissed at Garth, yet he couldn't help it. He quickly threw on a dark flannel shirt, messing with his hair and walked out the door. Three weeks. He had three weeks to find a new place to live or he would be homeless. Sam could do this. He could do this.

Right?

* * *

Sam walked into his sixth period class right as the final bell rang. Dean smiled at all his students, Sam rolling his eyes at him. And he most definitely did not look at his teachers lips.

"Alright, class." Dean's voice almost echoed as it broke the laughter and conversations of the students. He started talking more but Sam didn't hear him. Something on he Treaty of Versailles? Boring. He felt a light tap on his shoulder and he looked behind himself.

"Yes?" Sam said almost harshly as he saw Meg Masters smirking at him.

"So, I heard you left with Winchester yesterday. I knew it. It was all sexual tension."

He rolled his eyes. "It was not sexual tension, first off. Second of all, I did not sleep with him. Just needed a ride home is all."

Meg shook her head, not believing a word past his lips. "You just keep telling yourself that, Sammy."

"Do not call me that!" He whispered sharply, a glare in his eyes.

"Mr. Wesson, is there something you would like to share with the class since the Holocaust does anything else but peak your interest?"

Sam turned around slowly, flushed with embarrassment. "No Mr. Winchester. I'd rather not, but thanks for your concern." There was a bit of stifled laughter from around the classroom.

Dean nodded. "Fantastic. Keep your eyes on the board please." He continued with the lesson. With a small scowl towards Meg, Sam turned around and looked at the board. Right when the dismissal bell rang, he ran from the classroom.

* * *

Sam found himself sitting at a small diner a few streets away from the school with a cup of black coffee warming his pale hands. The waitress gave him sad, almost sympathetic looks every time she passed him and it made Sam even more upset than he already was.

He read through the newspaper he had borrowed from the man at the table across from him, trying to take Garth's advice and try and find someone who might be looking for a roommate.

It was harder than Sam thought. He never knew people would have so many idiotic requirements if they wanted to live with them.

 _'Must have no tattoos._ ' Sure. Sam could get that, it wasn't like he had one.

' _Must be Christian. White. Have a diploma....'_ The list of 'must' went on and on.

 _'Must be straight. No homosexuals.'_ That might be a setback. It wasn't surprising of course, most people around this town weren't exactly...friendly to homosexuals, Sam knew that. But that still made everything more difficult.

But that's what Sam didn't quite get. He didn't understand the hatred between straight people and homosexuals. It was just a man falling in love with someone of the same sex. To him, there wasn't such a big deal about being gay, straight, bisexual...To Sam, it didn't make sense in the slightest way.

His eyes skimmed through every ad he could find, searching for one that might happen to be perfect for him.

That was when he saw it.

Right when Sam finished reading through the advertisement, he paid for his coffee with a few bills and ran to catch a bus. Sure. It was all happening fast but that was just how Sam liked it now. After a life full of slow moving people and places, he was more than happy to see things happening quickly. Who even knew if the man who owned the apartment would even let him inside? That wasn't a problem to Sam at this point, all that mattered was anything new, anything fast.

The wind blew gently through the trees and there was only so many clouds in the sky as Sam rode the bus, a smile on his lips as he saw the apartment building come into view.

It wasn't tiny in the slightest, nice and several stories taller than his own. He walked into the building and went to floor eighteen, room sixty-seven. As Sam knocked on the door, he felt a slight nervousness go through his body. The person to open the door could be anyone in the world. He wasn't really sure he was ready for it. Then the door swung open.

"Hello, I know this is pretty sudden but if you had the time I-..." Sam froze, his heart stopping.

No.

This couldn't be right, those couldn't be the eyes he couldn't mistake staring right back at him. It had to be the wrong room, right?

Right?

It wasn't. There, standing right in front of Sam, living in the one apartment he thought might work with him....Was Dean Winchester.

 


	3. Questions With No Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow, I'm finally back and I'm changing the plot a bit. Thanks to everyone who comments, reads, everything .means the world to me! Thank you! I'm sorry that this chapter may seem rushed and...not so good. But I'll try to fix it again if you guys would like me too.

Sam stood at the door, dumbfounded and in complete denial that the man standing in front of him was Dean Winchester.

After all, this couldn’t really be true…right?

Oh, but it was a fact that Dean was in front of him and looked confused to see his student standing in front of him.

“Sam?” Dean's voice was rough and he sounded tired; it sent shivers down Sam's spine, making Sam go red. (Though he hoped it wasn't noticeable.)

“Um, yes, hello Mr. Winchester. This isn’t-“ Sam tried to explain himself but Dean cut him off.

“Listen, I really don’t have time right now for this. To be frank, I’ve got people hopefully coming over about an ad I put in the paper.” 

Dean spoke rather forcefully to Sam, his voice showing he was in control in a deep tone. Though secretly he rather more than liked having Sam standing in front of him. Sam, in his opinion, was an interesting being and he wanted to learn more about the kid. Though now, Dean knew he couldn’t appear this way at the moment.

“T-That's what I came here about. I’ve recently learned I can’t live where I am, but I know now I couldn’t live here, considering…” Sam became quiet, biting his lip hard.

Dean, on the other hand, couldn’t believe his ears. “You're joking. Right?”

Sam hid his face. “I’m afraid not.” 

Sam couldn’t quite believe how embarrassing he was being, telling his teacher everything. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to see Dean anywhere but class. Oh but of course, the world loved to torture him.

“Well…why don’t you come in? You said you were looking for a place, right? You might like it here.” Dean offered hesitantly. He knew it wasn’t right to offer but he couldn’t just toss the kid to the street.

Sam crossed his arms, shaking his head. “N-No, that’s okay. If I was to live here you could get fired.”

Dean shrugged, pursing his lips. “Well, you don’t know if you want to live here yet. No worries.” He smiled.

Sam sighed, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t believe what he said next.

“Alright, I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I take a look.” 

Dean nodded, stepping back so Sam could walk into the apartment. “No, it wouldn’t. Besides, its nice here. Or, at least I think so.”

Sam walked in, eyes scanning the room. The walls were tan, about the color of sand on the beach. A couch directed at a color television was a bit darker than the walls, matching nearly perfectly. Pictures hung neatly on the wall, Sam laughing softly to himself as he saw a picture of Dean when he was younger. 

He walked farther into the apartment, smiling when he saw the kitchen. The counters were black marble and a stove was in the corner of the room. A refrigerator was tucked away near the pantry, walls lined with different types of food, utensils and other items hidden away in cupboards.

“Its very nice…” Sam said quietly, sighing. He found he really would like it here. It was homey, smelling of vanilla and Sam swore he thought he could smell hints of a body spray Dean must use. 

Dean nodded, grinning. “Yeah, pretty proud of it here. Girls like it too, so that’s an automatic win, I’m sure.” He added that last part with a smirk, Sam rolling his eyes.

“I’m sure girls just love seeing pictures of your teen years on your wall.” Sam laughed, mimicking Deans smirk.

Dean almost pouted. “Oh, shut it, Wesson. Just tell me you love it.” He chuckled.

Sam ignored him, eyes glued to a piano he saw in the corner of the living area. It was a Petite Grand Piano, a smooth black obsidian color, and as Sam got closer, he could tell Dean must’ve cleaned it often. He looked over at Dean, studying him. He couldn’t play piano, right? To Sam it seemed out of character, an odd thing for Dean to do.

“You play?” He asked softly, tilting his head.

Dean almost laughed, looking down and running a hand through his hair. “Um…yeah. I do play a bit.”

Sam smiled softly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Will you play now? I’d like to hear.”

Sam liked music, he had to admit. It was a way to leave to a different world, hear emotions of a different person. It was getting into a persons mind by just listening to the words they were singing. It was an utterly simple thing to do and even the saddest songs could bring a smile to Sam's lips.

Dean went slightly red, shaking his head. “I don’t know, I’m not too good.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Winchester, I want to hear. Play something simple.”

Dean shook his head. “I won’t play anything. Maybe another time.”

Sam huffed, sighing. “Why won’t you play now? What if I stand here until you do?”

“You’ll be there a while, might have to just move in if you’ll do that.” Dean laughed.

“Well…” Sam started to speak, nearly saying he wanted to move in. “I don’t know Mr. Winchester. You know its inappropriate if I do, you could technically get fired.”

Dean shook his head. “Look, you need a place to stay once you're kicked out of your place. No one will know and I won’t accept my student out in the street.”

Sam's head shot up, looking up at Dean. “I won’t move in here if its just me getting your sympathy.” 

It was the last thing Sam could ever want from Dean Winchester, his damn sympathy. He didn't need Dean over his shoulder, making sure he was alright. 

Besides, Sam knew if he was to move in, his secrets might just slip and Dean might become disgusted by these secrets. 

Sam wasn't sure He was ready to take any chances.

After all, Dean was his teacher. His teacher! Every second that passed made Sam question his sanity more and more.

Dean sighed, sucking in a breath. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…why don’t you think about it? If not, I’d be glad to help you search for somewhere else.”

Sam rose an eyebrow, shaking his head, taken slightly aback. He wanted to ask why Dean even wanted to help him, why Dean was even okay with offering help. It has to just be Dean giving a kid sympathy and Sam wouldn’t have it. (He was too stubborn for that.)

“I still have a few weeks before I need to leave my apartment. I’ll consider coming here but I might find somewhere else.” Sam spoke nearly monotone.

Dean nodded, leading Sam to the door. “My door is always open. Even if I have another roommate by then.”

Why was Dean so alright with it all? He even wondered why himself. Every time he was alone with Sam, he felt himself change slightly, change into a man he wasn't completely sure of. The only thing Dean really knew of this new, more protective manner was that he might just be a bit better a person around this Sam Wesson.

Sam just nodded, not answering as he was led out the door. A million questions went through his head as the door closed, Sam wondering exactly what happened.

As Sam started to walk home, he tried to find answers. Dean was…nice to him, he wanted to help. It was as if Dean was a different person outside of class. Sam thought back to when Dean drove him home and he started to question Deans character then too.

Why was Dean being nice?

Why did Dean want to help him?

Why was Dean seeming so alright with Sam being there?

These were questions with no answers and Sam wasn't sure He would ever get his answers.

Sam came to the conclusion that Dean Winchester was a complex human being and put on different characters to different people. 

It was a rather rude conclusion, Sam thought, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he moved in with Dean.

If he moved in, that is.

Sam corrected himself yet he wondered if it really was a correction.


	5. An Announcement

Hey guys :) it's been a solid two years since I've updated. I want to try again with this story just give me a week or so thank you!


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